The sun was beginning to set over the Arizona mountains, painting the sky with shades of orange and purple. Jack Reynolds, a 37-year-old U.S. Army veteran, walked slowly toward the town’s animal shelter. His worn boots hit the pavement—each step a reminder of the weight he’d carried since leaving the Army two years ago. He had been trying to find something to fill the emptiness, but there was a void that no job or therapy seemed to heal. Rex—his loyal German Shepherd, the war dog who had been by his side on dangerous missions—had been forced into retirement after an injury.
The shelter was small and simple, with rusty fences and makeshift dog houses. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air, mixed with the sound of scattered barking. Jack was there at the request of his older sister, Emily, who believed a dog could help him cope with the traumas of post-war life. He had hesitated, but deep down something inside him urged him to take that step.
